


Off The Record

by amathela



Category: DCU (Comics), Titans (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Mission, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 14:52:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4526322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amathela/pseuds/amathela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick and Donna work off the aftereffects of a mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off The Record

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FleetSparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/gifts).



Donna shivers as she finishes drying off, not sure if it's from the physical sensation or from the cold. The latter, she thinks firmly; she's gotten good at lying to herself, lately. 

She's about halfway dressed when Dick's voice interrupts her. She shouldn't be surprised he's still here; he's always here, or close enough, and it's not like him to leave before he's made sure everyone else is okay. Except the thing is, she's not okay, and hearing him now is only making her less so.

"I though we agreed no contact," she calls back out to him, trying to keep her breathing steady, aware of her already-rising pulse. So much for decontamination showers, or maybe she just waited too long before getting in one.

"Sorry," he says, but of course that isn't the last of it. She loves Dick - he's her best friend - but the man does not know when to shut up, sometimes. "Just wanted to see if you were all right."

"Fine," she says, and her voice sounds clipped, even to her.

Apparently it does to Dick, too. "You sure about that?"

"Sure," she says. Maybe she did wait too long for the shower, but it isn't like she could have gone in there with someone else, and they don't have enough for the whole team. She'll be okay in time. "Just making sure I got it all."

"Right," Dick says, and she thinks she can hear him smile even through the closed door. How he can find something like this funny, she has no idea. And then, his tone more serious, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Donna asks, opening the door in exasperation. "Fine, we got doused in that ... pollen. It's not like any of us acted on it."

And it's not until she sees Dick's gaze, tracking slowly down her barely-dressed body and back up again, that she realises her mistake.

"I should have left this closed," she says. Her hand is still on the doorknob, but she can't quite seem to make it move.

"I showered," he says, like that's supposed to reassure her.

"So did I," she says.

"It help?" he asks.

She takes a deep breath. "No."

There's a long pause, and then Dick says, "Me, neither."

Well, this is ... something.

"Do you want to get out of here?" he asks. 

Donna can see the tightness of his jaw, the rigidness of his posture, the way he's clinging to the doorframe, almost physically holding himself back from her. These showers are useless, she thinks. But the thing is, Donna's made a lot of decisions about her love life lately, and she doesn't even know any more if any of them were good or bad. And she's definitely not used to this, looking at Dick and seeing someone she might want to -

Well. She's not used to it, but she's not entirely sure it's a bad thing. She could blame it all on the pollen, and, sure, some if it - most of it - is definitely that, but partly, she's just _so sick_ of not doing whatever she wants.

Even if what she wants is, objectively, a very, very bad idea.

"No," she says slowly. "That's not what I want."

She expects Dick to hesitate, or to try to reason with her - this is, after all, so very Not Them that she's not sure anyone would believe it even if they walked in on it. Instead, he reaches for her, and before she knows it she's making out with her best friend.

Who is - no surprise here - a pretty amazing kisser.

"Are you sure?" he asks, even as he reaches for the hem of her shirt, his breath coming in quick, sharp pants. 

"Are we still good?" she counters, and he grins at her - a real Dick grin, and she can feel the last part of her, nervous and holding out, begin to unclench.

"We're good," he says.

"Then I'm sure."

Almost before she's finished talking, he pulls her against her. His regular clothes hide a lot more than his uniform, but it doesn't seem like it now, pressed against him so tightly she thinks she could count his muscles from feel alone. She smiles and pushes back, until he's sitting on one of the benches, helping him pull her shirt the rest of the way off. She rises up just long enough for him to shove his pants down before sinking back down, feeling every inch of him pressed alongside her, and she bites her lip to keep from groaning.

She kisses him again, almost feverish now, and wonders - not quite idly - what the pollen would have felt like without a decontamination shower. As it is, she can barely stand to break contact for a moment, not even to get the rest of the way undressed. She manages to get his shirt off - this might not be in any way romantic, but if this is happening, she's going to get the full view, thank you very much - before he pushes her underwear aside roughly and she sinks onto him, feeling him fill her. 

Donna takes what feels like her first breath in ages, like that pulsing need inside her has finally been sated enough that the can relax, just for a moment. And then it's back, more insistent than ever, Dick's hands lifting her up almost effortlessly before letting her sink back down, hard, setting her own quick pace. She can feel sweat trickling down the back of her neck, even fresh from the shower, hear Dick's breath growing ragged already, and she realises that hers is, too. It feels like only minutes since she even heard his voice, but she gives into it anyway, a rush of ecstasy filling her even as Dick stiffens beneath her, his grip on her hips growing almost painfully tight. And then his grip relaxes, and she all but collapses against him, breathing in the still-humid air, trying to clear her head.

"Still okay?" Dick asks after a minute, and she nods against his chest.

"Fine," she says. Not any more true than before, maybe, but in a very different way. And there's a part of her that doesn't want to admit she feels _terrific_.

She feels something else, too, and it takes her a moment to realise it isn't a sensation, but rather the absence of one.

"I feel better," she says, sitting up, vaguely aware that he's still inside her. "My head -"

"Is clear?" he asks, and nods. "Yeah. Me, too."

And then he grins at her again, and, yeah. She's still okay.

Sticky and sweaty and sorely in need of another shower, though. She lifts herself off him, readjusting her underwear and reaching for her shirt as Dick does the same.

"I'm going to take five," she says, deliberately not turning away from him. If she acts weird about it now, it's only going to make it weird, and so far it isn't. "You can go on ahead."

He shrugs. "I'll wait," he says. "If you want me to."

It only takes her a second to decide. "Sure," she says. "Pizza afterwards?"

"Definitely pizza afterwards," he agrees. "And beer. My place?"

"It's a deal," she says, shutting the door after him as he leaves.

This time, though, she thinks they might skip the post-mission report.


End file.
